I used to think Jorge and I shared the same mental illness. The one where you decide to work too hard all the time constantly losing yourself in labor, but it wasn’t the work we were obsessed with we were obsessed with the service. Jorge was giving he was kind generous to a fault he gave and gave and gave because simply asking meant that you needed it and he just wanted to help. He loved his family. All he would talk about are the things he wanted to send home multiples of everything so everyone could share and be a part of it Support wasn’t hard or heavy for him. He was someone who thought. I remember seeing him watch everything, losing himself in observation, and following up. Following through. kindness was a virtue kindness was his nature. he supported my art before I knew it was art. He’s the man who lent me his camera before I had my own. He gave me a lens before I had my own. He bought my art before anyone even you what it was. i’m distraught because I wasn’t as good as a friend to him as he was to me and I don’t know how to say sorry because it’s too late to say sorry. he called me a few times in the past few months and I didn’t try to keep him on the phone for too long. I don’t know why I just didn’t know how to. it was clear he was different and I didn’t know why he was. now I know it’s because he was sick and I wasn’t there for him. I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry you were a good man and the world is a sad place without you here.
my friend died this weekend and it’s left me in a way of needing repair.
jorge was.
that is a sentence in itself.
im thinking about cacas. his kitten. imm crying.
im thinking about his son, who he hasnt seen and it makes me cry. im thinking about celia. his friend and past love. she was devoted. he constantly equivocated. it makes me cry
jorge, my maria. i am crying.
a supportive friend this makes me cry.
i can hear him now making some dark humour joke about his life ending. him calling himself an asshole.
assholes are loved also jorge. i am crying
i hope you werent alone. i am crying
thank you for your friendship, i wish so many things
love you forever
I had a terrible dream a few weeks ago. It was a confrontation of mortality not of my own but of my mother. Women go through multiple changes. She is in the later change. It’s a physical manifestation. She’s had strong and firm independent and nonsensical, she believes in her body and she trusts it implicitly. and as such, she wants no medical help, and I was privy to a conversation where I learned that a part of this change was so physical it could result in harm or even death. It was the first conversation we really had about it and that night I had a terrible dream. Made vague by time, I remember that I did not know how nervous she had been going into the procedure. It’s unknown to me what it was even for . She went into a surgery and did not come out. I woke up crying. I called her soon as I woke up twice to no answer I tried later that day when she finally answered. I was stressed and upset. I asked her why she had a phone if she would never use it. We didn’t talk about the dream but I could tell she knew what it was about. It made me sad for the entire day and here. I am a few weeks later and I still get emotional thinking about it. I had a call with a close friend who out of nowhere Informed me of the death of someone I knew once, his mother. as mother‘s go she was a good. mothers often try their best. she was kind she was generous and she was smart. She was funny. No one is ever without fault. I was lucky enough to live with her for a while, and she was a good friend to me. When the door you enter through closes I can’t imagine how you orient yourself every bit of me wants to say sorry to acknowledge how amazing she was. Her death makes me think of a lot of things that I try to leave in the past
my videos treats filmmaking as an ongoing ethnography of a life in progress.
Through observational cinema and participant observation, I return to moments, relationships, and rituals.
over time meaning emerges.
distance, memory, and lived experience.
As both actor and filmmaker, I move between participant and observer.
leaving the camera to examine how identity is made, performed, remembered, and remade.
7/10/26
\
the process is the journey
I will never stop looking out the window
Everything I do brings me sweet enjoyment. Figuring out how to do something is fun for me, I like a challenge, and I like bettering myself. Learning new things feels like food for my brain and art is the tastes amazing. It is the nourishment, it makes me whole. My art makes me whole and my process is solitary, singular and unique. Just like me.
Lets use the analogy of driving long distances, and the fact that I often get carsick.
I get carsick when I go on long drives specifically in cars but sometimes trains too. What helps me feel better, or rather, not get sick. Is looking out the window.
Looking out the window can be a lot of information for the brain. Things move fast. The eyes can hardly catch up to what it’s seeing , the brain can’t really grass what it’s seeing often use. This is the excuse to take long naps during travel. I’m quite good at sleeping during travel. I love sleeping on a plane love sleeping in a car so I can never sleep in the front seat as a passenger only in the backseat. That sleeping in a car while driving takes the process of the journey away you know sleeping gives you a few hours of stillness and quiet but once your eyes open, you’re there the journeys part of the destination or getting to the part of the journey, that’s how I feel my processes for my work at least Doing something isn’t the art but learning how to do it or the steps in it is the art for me sewing something I never made before is not new to me. I’ve never been trained. No one ever taught me. I just learned the process is learning.
I saw a video recently, where I was described me as constantly changing vocations, as a frustrated artist, as if we were in conversation they (me) yelled “and now I’m making bags!”.
Being misunderstood as an artist is par for the course. If you’re any good, you’re workers unique your process is unique and your journeys one of a kind.
your process is intuitive. But because of conditioning. We live in a world where bills need to be paid social norms teaches how to be and familial pressure can wean on the soul. What’s important is valuing the self, integrity, perseverance, and discipline understanding that you will be misunderstood and that ultimately no one can tell you what to do unless there are your parents and they will tell you what to do and it’s up to you to listen to them.
What people think of you can be surprising what people who care about you think about you can be devastating.
When someone you believe sees you or knows you, says something about you which is the antithesis of your personhood you hear it. you feel it. maybe you even feel it for a while, I did.
L ultimately it was my responsibility to forget it to know that th
is person has just proven the fact that being misunderstood again part of the process it’s a part of the journey and one should constant continue to look out the window until we get to where we’re going.
Highlifelights this week:
SERIES 2 of WORMGIRL
Series 1 came out in 2021. It first premiered on noBudge.
december 1, 2025 12:12pm
all the women I love are dead
vultures are called a kettle when in flight, a committee when at rest on the ground or in trees, and a wake when gathered to feed at a carcass.
Queen pokou
Cleopatra
Isis
Nefertiti
Princess Diana
Whitney Houston
Britney Murphy
Persephone
Artemis
My work is structured in the foundation of constant change.
Infinity said that often we outgrow space because a departure of sameness. My work is a result of energetic/emotional/creative quicksand.
Attention like minds
Like interests
Tethered
Relinquish the control
These women led with gratitude
Observed
Demonstrated
Acknowledged
Ego asks for this.
self anal Isis
More curious/mercurius
The mission in life has been to find out who I am. To talk to the person in charge to see if I could find out the
meaning of this life.
I’ve met her in the past. Time passing between our next meet, I recognized her instantly clipping her
Undefined
Head- am I thinking about something that does not matter?
Root- am I in a hurry to be free of the pressure?
sunday, november 23, 2025 12:34pm
To open at the close.
I now a lot of people, but very few people know me. This isn’t on purpose and hard to understand even to myself. Feelings are fleeting and often I can’t find the word to put them into meaning, they exist in a state not dissimilar to states of matter, inconstant and ever changing.
friday, november 21, 2025 13:13pm
In the name of anger, feeling overlooked and self judgement.
Some mornings after waking and writing my daily affirmation I feel angry.
Today I take my self outside to get a 12oz cup of coffee, and after paying a $1.00 surcharge to add a splash of oat milk I feel angrier.
I walk away embarrassed for having not spoken up.
I walk away hoping that I am just hangry, I am resigned to pick up the cheddar cheese and ripe plantain I crave for breakfast. I walk slowly back to my apartment, I feel the crisp cool morning air and even the cold shower refuses to help my mood. My mind replays the past 24 hours and I find the root of my anger. Question from a clueless white woman who knows better but still refuses to do better.
Its fun to fill in the blank of the people we know. I pride myself on being a parent friend. This means the kind of friend who enjoys talking and meeting my friends parents. As adults rarely do we find situations in which conversations with parents happen. As kids we go to each other‘s houses, we meet mums and fathers at afterschool pick up, at extracurricular activities, birthday parties, sleepovers, and such.
As adults, we’re lucky if it happens at weddings (if we are invited).
A scenario in which our being seating on a velvet lined bench in a bridal atelier on Madison Ave, relies upon a formed friendship. A welcomed invitation from an adored friend, to join her as she fought to find a treasured dress for a special day. This is how we meet, the mother and me. As she tries to pick apart the connection, she begins with the obvious question. How did you two meet?
I smile because we have two answers, I lead with the meeting that cemented the friendship but followed with the literal truth. I’m nothing, if not literal.
I tell her “we actually met at the restuarant I work at, but became friends after meeting again at line dancing.”
The speed in which my smile falters at her follow up question. “Does that pay the rent?”
Am I angry at her question or am I angry at my reply?
Trick question, three truths exists here.
To ask such a question is rude, crass and frankly no one’s business. Unless what follows necessitates my venmo or zelle as the response.
The ease in with which people decide that they are deserving of information about other peoples personal lives is confounding. And the fact that even after I reply that I found that question incredibily forward,
I still told her my fucking business.
Long gone are the days where propriety leads society.
I’m angry because when I lead with kindness, integrity, empathy, and earnestness, it’s constantly met with judgment. What information was she trying to gather from that question. What does my job, not my profession and my ability to pay my rent tell you about me? And do you want to give me some money?
If the latter is yes. Then @mcintouch.
If no. Please kindly refrain from sticking your nose in places it does not belong.
What this discomfort has highlighted for me is my continued effort in confronting my own lapses. The question disarmed me. It placed me in a moment of vulnerabilty as if i had to prove my worthiness to this random lady. There was more to the question the way my brain heard it. We are always dealing with our own conditioning.
I am learning and practicing how not to let others lead me. I am my own door. I am the knob and I am the keyhole.
have i found persephones trousseau?
have i encountered the private and the personal.
i continue to explore the quiet house. marking each door already opened with ribbon.
red blue white pink yellow green pale blue orange indigo violet
i cannot see the floor my bare feet touch
(3/19/25 post)
mini brief.
made with Italian wool. Lime green pinned stripes.
one of 1
available in current series fabrics.
link series 1, generous prophet. (3/1/24 post)
available to shop
LINK series 2 (forthcoming)
The gods are mad.
Mother asked me where she put her anger? I stopped, adjusting Fear on my hip as he slipped, stumbling just.
Im aghast.
Hell must be better than this.
Is that a wish? A flower with no sunlight wilts in its own reflection.
Persephone, the goddess of spring and queen of the underworld, serves as both myth and metaphor in my persaonal fable. Our descent and return reflect an ongoing process of transformation, mirroring the cyclical nature of self-exploration and creative evolution. Through the work, I engage with this mythological narrative, utilizing the motif of the bag as both a functional object and a symbolic vessel—one that carries history, memory, and the weight of personal and collective experience.
My practice is deeply informed by Jung’s concept of individuation, wherein the descent into the unconscious serves as a necessary rite of passage. This particular ‘journey’ parallels the classic Hero’s Journey, a framework of departure, initiation, and return. Much like Persephone, my process involves a confrontation with the shadow self, an excavation of hidden depths, and an emergence into new realms of understanding. Structure expressed through design, techniques (or lacktherof) weave together elements of tension and release, concealment and revelation, structure and fluidity. Each bag becomes a reflection of this passage, embodying not just an aesthetic but a deeper emotional and psychological resonance.
Balance.
The delicate tension between vulnerability and resilience, ephemeral beauty and enduring strength. The notion of carrying—both physically and metaphorically—is central.
Persephone, too, carries a bag, one that changes depending on her journey—whether for travel, isolation, or renewal. What do we carry with us, both willingly and unknowingly? How does the past shape the present? These questions intuited, make each piece a vessel for introspection.
Each bag is not just an accessory but a talisman—an object imbued with meaning, intention, and transformation. They function as artifacts of my personal mythology, carrying within them stories of descent and discovery. The tension between structure and fluidity, light and shadow, reflects the deeper narrative of growth, where discomfort and revelation coexist.
For this series, the work offers a meditation on transformation and the unseen forces that shape our lives. Each bag serves as both artifact and allegory, reflecting a vision that transcends utility to embody deeper symbolic resonance.
photos added 3/16/25
link series 1, generous prophet. (
Sunday march 30th
venus is still retrograde.
but my fog is lifting. three years of unclear vision, holding on to the wall, afraid of being anchorless. afraid of being in control, fear ridden.
the fog is lifting
away fog
be
gone.
ideas, inspriation, rinse reapeat recycle
My brain moves incredibly fast. Intuitive hits come as flashes. New ideas tickle my third eye, heart and root shakras. I feel inspired then excited and some much pressure will build. Then my crash. But yes this is my creative cycle.
HELLO Me meet ME.
Highlifelights this week.
Sunday march 23rd
That’s all i have for today.
venus is retrograde
Saturday March 22nd
7:43am
brunch shift
heirloom screening at 7p. seeing grace and ben
charlotte moderating
Friday, March 21st
make funny tshirt idea
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
break it down into 4 letter combinations, monogrammed onto plain white tshirts/cool old thrifted ones
abcd
bcde
defg
cdef
fghi
efgh
ghij
hijk
ijkl
klmn
mnop
lmno
nopq
opqr
qrst
rstu
pqrs
stuv
uvwx
vwxy
wxyz
It’s my Friday dinner shift. I actually don’t find it difficult anymore. It used to be difficult for many reasons. but I’ve personally enjoyed observing how I navigate interpersonal relationships both intimately and tangentiallysp?
I do not point blame to myself for any feelings. Rather I step to the metaphorical side and 3rd party observe my own life as judge and jury. I take a deep breath and get over myself and carry on.
Highlifelights this week
- scans of a book of poems i must have been writing around age 15/16.
What’s striking is how all the poems to this day ring true. How uncanny they feel because I could have written some of them today based of parallel themes. How deeply feeling I was.
How the intensity hasn’t changed but the experiences have shaped.
i MET MY MAJOR DEADLINE. YOU ARE OPEN TO BE ENTERED. WHat’s my next goal?
creat idea for suite e.
what is it?
why?
where?
when?
what makes it special?
Also think about where to travel to next?
I need to go somewhere.
On my to do list in no particular order,
laundry
scan old poems
natal chart reading for obi publish website for solstice offering.
Two opportunites have recently presented themselves. They were invitaions.
editing content / talent in content
need to enjoy life with my talents
Sunday, March 16th
Easier to show you what i’ve been doing
rejected coins from coinstar. 3 yrs of coins = $140 cash
Wednesday, March 5th
Something going on. I’d rather not say what I think is happening out loud. Do I do think Mother has a sense of humor? Yes. I’d rather do as time has asked, and wait.
There is a lot of energy and things have manifested physically. Tight right neck shoulder and heart charka opening sensations. Dull ache, random. My intuition says, I’m fine but so does my lack of health insurance
Missions accomplished today.
First win was, not buying coffee out but rather going out to buy instant coffee for home. That on top of all the free milk I got last week from the handsome entrepreneur.
It’s a mindful spending time.
So, coffee around 9am. While shopping, I also purchased some floor cleaner.
I’d put off cleaning the floor for weeks. Typically a shoe free home, I let myself off the hook for having to run in for my keys one morning, and hadn’t stopped. It was feeling gross and I was ready to heed the call.
Highlifelights this week.
Not looking for perfection, rather seeking dedication. Challenging myself to do this again.
I’m good at making a special thing. The challenge of improving feels nerveracklingly sweet.
Cerulean summer.
#2
2/small
Will probably make #3 sometime next week.
Hoping more warm day are on the horizon. I desperately want to take photos of all new pieces of jewelry and bags for a cute spring share.
TUESDAY, MARCH 4TH.
The seed of doubt vs the seed of Inspiration.
Monday, March 3rd.
7:06pm.
Truly feels like one of those fulfilling days. I made breakfast early. toast, sausage, one perfectly fried egg and a hash brown.
that's my favorite thing to eat for breakfast right now.
I followed the morning with puttering. Gave myself two Sabrina Carpenter songs in the shower and then began my day.
the challenge of the weekend was making a corset top from the perfect foundation to model i found on ebay.
Sewing allows me to see the rules but break them anyway.
Saturday, March 1st.
I don’t know if you believe in astrology, I do. I believe in time. I believe in space. I believe that energy cannot be destroyed. It comes back in different ways. It’s affected by change but energy is change. It’s constant and it’s in motion. Those are every theory, every idea that we know, even the ones we don’t know they’re all in energy. My Saturn is ruled by Aquarius. My sun is ruled by Aquarius, my sun directly opposes my Leo moon, my moon squares my Pluto, my Pluto in Scorpio, sits in my 12th house. Reasons for the way I am. Secretive and moody, nourishing and detached, simple in complexties. Energies all tied up in simple language we have to express the frequencies, musics and all invisible tethers.
Jeff Green author of Pluto: The Evolutionary Journey of the Soul says that both the student and teacher of astrology seek to ask, why am I here and what are my lesson?
That is it.
Astrology is the symbolic language.
the totality of life
This is based on : 1. empirical observation
2. corelation (to the planets patterns at the time of observation)
How lucky we are to have ideas in archetypes tied up to explain the commonalities we share in our lived experiences. The framewark we have, we attempt to explain the rational and the mystiscal. We thinks we know anything but wow do we know nothing. We don’t even know why we’re here. Life is but a dream we refuse to enjoy, death is waking from this dream we share. A bad group trip, with a hard to describe, kind of sort of wayward guide.
Respectfully.
3 OBSERVABLE PHENOMENA
evolution, cycles & growth
process = evolution, cycles & growth
past, present & future = process
The sooner I realized that letting go was the way forward to just say what I want and be honest and vulnerable with myself and everyone because you know what, what use is there in lying?
Truthfully all I want to do is make. Make time for myself, make time for my friends, make things with my hand, make memories, make people know that it’s OK to be human, and to be soft and open and know that there’s a space that I can exist that wants very little from you. wants but friendship and support. The support doesn’t want to insidiously take but rather be a system where one sees someone as they are, and the other one says thank you.
suite e. e for enjoyment.
trust the process
Friday, February 28th.
My credit card payment is due. It’s 10:46pm.
I’ll do it in a sec
It’s my father’s birthday. I haven’t seen or properly spoken to him in 16x2=32.
In 17 years.
There was one odd three way phone call my mother, attempted to mediate. She’s very empathetic.
First and only question he asked me was if my boyfriend was white. I was disappoinnted I wasn’t surprised at his asking. He was always like that. Very proud black man.
Happy birthday Denzil.
Im grateful your absence was never felt. Made my life easier.
Forgot to mention my blowout :) jadore
Currently reading
Pluto : The Evolutionary Journey of the Soul by Jeff Greenwhat’s making me tingle? -just bought 3 new colours of fabrics from mood. new bags and a pair of shorts -working on my website -new black tea blend call english afternoon -brunch tomorrow is my friday - the 3 observable phenomena (evolution, cycles&growth) process is past present and future collective individual (natural law of evolution) |
- im loving my book
signing off. paid cc, hot water bag preheating bed.
it’s 11:39
x
satisfied